


Two Together

by wolfinred (clare_dragonfly)



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare_dragonfly/pseuds/wolfinred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Abby and McGee behind the scenes: from strangers to lovers, from lovers to friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Together

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my lovely beta, tv_fan_girl!

“So you’re McGee,” she said, looking up at him—but only by an inch. He’d never seen a girl this tall in person before. He was a little bit intimidated. “You look just like I pictured you.”

“I do?” His voice squeaked a little. He hated that.

She nodded. Her pigtails bounced. She was so gorgeous it made his ears buzz. “From the sound of your voice over the phone.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

She laughed. “A good thing. Definitely.” She held her arm out. “Come on. There are some great food trucks around here.”

He took her arm and stepped into the elevator with her. “I thought I would take you to a nice restaurant…”

She shook her head. “I don’t have time for that. It’s an important job I have here.”

“Of course. Sorry.”

She punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t apologize, McGee. We’ll have fun, I promise. And if we have less fun than I hope, we can just be friends.”

“Okay. That’s okay. That’s fine.” He swallowed. The elevator doors pinged open and they walked out into the lobby, then into the hallway. Her shoes made clunking sounds where they hit the sidewalk. He risked a peek down at them (he did not want her to think he was checking out her body, no, it was utterly perfect and he did not want to stare) and saw that she was wearing heavy platforms. At least two inches. No wonder she was so tall.

“So, McGee,” she said. “Do you have a first name?”

“Yes. Yeah, of course. It’s Tim. Timothy.”

“Middle name?”

“No. Ah, I don’t have one. Um. What about you? Do you have a last name? Tony just said Abby.”

She laughed. “He would. It’s Abby Sciuto. So do you like tacos or Chinese food or Lebanese food or something else?” She’d brought him down the street and was pointing at different food trucks one at a time.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Did that sound smooth? It sounded a little bit smooth to him.

She grinned at him. “Sure, but I want to know what you actually like. I mean, it’s important to find out each other’s likes and dislikes, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. I, I think of those choices, I like tacos.”

“Cool. Juan is a great guy. I’ll introduce you.” She practically dragged him over to a food truck that had a line of four people standing in front of it.

He’d never met someone as friendly as Abby. She knew half the people in the line, and by the time they’d reached the food truck she had met and made friends with the others. She was bubbly and enthusiastic about everything. McGee was a little afraid to do his own talking half the time, but he didn’t need to.

When they’d had their tacos and were heading back to NCIS, it took almost no courage at all to ask her out for a nice dinner. And when she gave him that grin, it took only a small amount of courage to kiss her.

—

Abby really, really liked McGee. It surprised her how much she liked him. She’d thought this would be just a fun thing, a few dates, but the guy worked in Anacostia and they probably shouldn’t get too attached…

But she felt so safe here, nestled in his arms in her coffin. Safe like at home with her family. Safe like Gibbs was protecting her.

He shifted slightly, those soft eyelashes fluttering, and muttered something. “Shh,” she said, stroking his hair, and he subsided, so she got to watch him sleep some more.

A few minutes later, though, his eyes opened fully and he yawned. “Morning,” he said with a smile.

“Morning,” she said, grinning at him. “You’re so cute when you sleep.”

“I am not.” His eyes shifted away from her.

“Yeah, you are.” She stood up, stepped out of the coffin, and reached down for his hand. “Come on, let’s make some breakfast.”

He took her hand and allowed her to help him out, though he glanced at the coffin with a frown; she was glad they hadn’t turned any lights on yet. He was still a little intimidated by her tricked-out goth apartment. It was cute, but she didn’t want to send him running and screaming.

She led him into the kitchen, where the curtains were drawn everywhere—as always, she didn’t want any sunlight on her skin—but bright fluorescents were available so they could see what they were doing. “What do you think?” she said, bending to rummage in a cabinet for some big mixing bowls. “Pancakes?”

“Uh, shouldn’t you put some clothes on before cooking?” McGee had already put his boxers back on. He was so modest. It was cute. Every damn thing he did was cute.

“In a minute.” She pulled out the bowls and measuring supplies, then took down the flour and got the eggs and milk out of the fridge. “Want to chop up some strawberries or something? Apples? I’ve got all kinds of fruit.” She walked to the back of the kitchen, where her black and white, ruffled, skull-decorated apron was hanging.

When she returned, tying the apron firmly so it would keep her from getting flour dusted all down her front (or worse, spattered in hot butter), McGee had pulled an apple and a knife out and was busy opening and closing drawers. “Cutting boards are by the sink,” she said.

“Right,” he said, making a beeline for the correct drawer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry through all your stuff.”

She laughed and pinched his butt as she walked by. “It’s fine, Tim. I invited you into my home, remember? And now we’re cooking together.”

That made him smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Together.”

—

He was pretty sure he was in love with her.

He loved her, and she was pulling away from him.

He wasn’t sure if it was breaking his heart or just making him care about her more. Because obviously it wasn’t easy for her to be loved by someone else. Had she gotten her heart broken in the past? Was she afraid to make herself vulnerable to another person? Maybe he was the one who should be afraid of that.

He didn’t say any of this to her, of course, because who liked to be analyzed? And it wouldn’t help if she didn’t come to her own conclusions herself, anyway. He tried to steer the conversation in that direction. “Where is our relationship going?” “Do you care about me?” “Want to compare crazy ex stories?”

It didn’t work.

It was only when they were actually working together, solving crimes, coding away, that he actually felt close to her. “How did you—”

“Tunneled through the firewall. With a Trojan worm program.”

“Oh, of course!”

“But now I’m not sure—”

“Catch the backstream. No, wait, you’ll miss it. Let me—”

And they worked together smoothly like that. But when he tried to talk about real things, she shut down.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. It was always like that. At least for him. He’d never had much luck with relationships, even when he’d gained enough confidence first to actually have real conversations with girls and then to ask them out. He’d never been the type to go for the unattainable cheerleaders; he’d always dated fellow nerds, and yet there was always something wrong with him, or with her, or at least with the way they came together.

He wished he could pull back from Abby the way she was pulling back from him. They got along well as friends. They made great coworkers. He could feel her slipping through his fingers, and that just made him cling all the tighter—which was going to make her pull away all the faster.

—

“Popcorn?” said Abby.

“Oh, yes, please,” said Tim from the couch. He was always so polite.

She made popcorn in the microwave, silently waiting for the pops to slow down, then brought it out in a big plastic bowl decorated with white bones. She was pretty sure it was supposed to be for dogs, but so were half her collars, and she liked them anyway.

Tim had the movie queued up when she reached the couch. He smiled nervously at her. “Ready?”

“When am I not?” She tossed a piece of popcorn in her mouth. Tim turned away from her, his face strange in the light of the television, and started the movie. Her speakers played “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” in tinny 8-bit music. She wondered if Tim knew why she’d invited him over to her place tonight, when they hadn’t been to each other’s places in weeks—wondered if he knew she wanted one last night before she broke up with him.

It was too bad, really. If she’d been looking for something permanent, he would have made a great husband. Probably be a wonderful dad one day. But she didn’t want that for herself and didn’t think she ever would. Her job got all her love and commitment and there just wasn’t enough left over for a person.

Tim spread his love and commitment around a little more. “Is this a kissing book?” they said together. “You want to hear the story or not?”

His job, his writing, his sister, Abby. She didn’t know how he did it. Maybe he was just better at love than she was. It made her feel a little jealous. It made her want to learn how to do it from him.

But they were too close for that now. They would be great friends. Wonderful friends. And maybe they could still have sex sometimes—though she wasn’t going to suggest that unless he did, because she knew he was the type to take it the wrong way.

“Tim,” she said.

He turned to her, startled, eyes luminous in the light from the TV. “Abby?”

She swallowed, then shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “I’m glad you came tonight.” Chickening out, of course.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well… you know…” She sighed. “You do know, don’t you?”

He looked down. “Yeah. I think I do.” A pause, in which she didn’t say anything because she was waiting for his reaction. “It’s okay.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. We’re better as friends anyway.”

“You think so?” She was relieved. She’d thought he would just try to hang on harder.

“Yeah. Friends and coworkers.”

“We do work well together,” she agreed happily. She settled herself more firmly on the couch and threaded her arm through his, paying more attention to the movie now.

This wasn’t how she’d wanted to do it; she’d honestly wanted to have sex with him one last time, because sex with Tim was fun, and she knew it would be the wrong thing to say now. But she was glad she’d done it this way. No arguing, no complaints. Just two friends, sitting on a couch and watching a movie together.

When Tim left at the end of the night, she realized he hadn’t even touched the popcorn.

—

“Abby?” he asked cautiously, aware that just because the two of them were alone in his lab didn’t mean she would hesitate to snap at him. Or tear his head off. Actually, maybe he should have done this when Tony was around, so he would have some protection…

“Yes?” She didn’t turn to look at him or have any pause in tapping away at her computer.

Well, it was too late now. Anyway, if he asked in front of Tony, he would be mocked mercilessly. “Why don’t you like Ziva?”

“What makes you think I don’t like Ziva?”

She had answered so quickly that she must have been anticipating the question. “You know what I mean.”

“I like Ziva just fine.”

“Abby, you know you’re not a very good liar.” That was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it? Yeah, she was tapping her foot now, and she really wasn’t looking at him. This was not going well.

“Well, if you’re hoping I’m going to say that I don’t like her because you seem to and I’m jealous, get over it.”

Okay, she wasn’t absolutely furious. She was just annoyed. But he was going to see this conversation through to the end. “Of course I’m not hoping that.” Maybe he had been, a little bit. He thought Ziva was pretty amazing, not to mention hot, but she was no Abby. But even if Abby was jealous, she had to be the one to do something about it—he couldn’t. “I just thought if there’s anything I can do to smooth things over, I’d like to help. It looks like we’ll be working with Ziva for a long time, and I don’t like it when you’re mad. Or unhappy in any way.”

“You’re so sweet, McGee.” It had been a while since she’d called him Tim, hadn’t it?

“I know it’s not only because you don’t like change, because she’s been here for a few months now. You got used to me being on Gibbs’ team a lot faster than that. Is it because she sort of replaced Kate?”

She sighed and her foot stopped tapping. He was wearing her down. “I already knew you. And I knew about Kate before she joined the team, even if I hadn’t met her. Ziva just came out of nowhere.”

“She surprised all of us.” He decided not to explain that Ziva had been even more involved with the team before officially joining it than Kate had. Abby would probably have a reasonable explanation for that.

“Yeah, surprised you with her tight pants and ninja moves.” There was a smile in her voice now.

“Ziva does not wear tight pants.” Crap. He was allowing himself to be drawn off the topic. “I thought you said you weren’t jealous.”

“Oh, Tim.” She turned around at last. She wasn’t quite smiling now, but at least she’d called him Tim. He came around the evidence table and walked over to her, because it was obvious that she wanted him to. When he got close enough, she pulled him in for a hug. Surprised, he hugged her back. Was this…?

“I really do appreciate your trying to make things better,” she said. “I’ll try to get used to her. I guess I have been pushing her away a little.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sure she understands.”

“But you’re right.” She released him and straightened. “Team Gibbs works much better when everyone on it likes each other. I’ll make myself get used to Ziva. Now.” She grinned. “What do you have for Gibbs?”

“What? Nothing, yet. Why, is he here?” He looked around nervously.

“Not yet, but I just found something. So he’ll be here any minute. Better get cracking.”

—

“This is nice,” said Abby. “It’s been a while since we just had lunch together.”

Tim laughed as he wrapped some noodles around his fork. (She had never managed to teach him to properly use a pair of chopsticks.) “I don’t think we’ve done that since we were dating.”

She grinned at him. He looked relaxed, despite having mentioned when they dated. That was good. He always got so jealous when she had another guy—and, she had to admit, there was a little jealousy when he had another girl, even though she was always really happy for him (and terrified, because most of his girlfriends had turned out really badly). But now they were talking normally and not trying to get back together or anything. “I don’t know why not. Much as I love working with you, it’s fun to hang out when we don’t have a fingerprint analysis running in the background.”

He slurped up his noodles. “We haven’t had lunch alone in a while because someone else has always been with us. Or I’ve been working through lunch, because Gibbs never gives us a lunch break.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Why had she brought that up? She hated to be reminded of the splitting up of the team. Stupid Vance. She stabbed at her wasabi with her chopsticks. “But we’ll get Ziva and Tony back soon. And Gibbs can’t possibly stand Little Miss Health Nut or that obnoxious guy for too long.”

“What about Keating?”

“Is he your replacement?” She shook her head and dabbed wasabi on her tuna. “He’s no McGee. I bet it takes him twice as long to do a cell phone trace.”

McGee snorted. “It’s not all bad. I do have actual lunch breaks now.”

“But the sub-basement is freezing.”

“That’s true.” He sighed. “Okay, so I want the team back. But Vance broke us up. I don’t think he’s going to put us back together. And I haven’t heard from Ziva in ages.”

“Really?” Abby frowned. “That’s the first I’m hearing about this. I heard from her… two days ago.” She shook her head. “Actually, we’ve been emailing a lot more often than that. I hope she’s okay.”

McGee pushed around the noodles on his plate. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Don’t say that, Tim!” Abby punched him lightly. “You’ll jinx it.”

“Jinx what?”

“Whatever it is she’s doing. Can you track her down or something? She has to still be in Mossad’s records, right?”

He shook his head. “I can’t do that. Vance has me working some serious stuff. I can’t just take time off to poke around in other people’s records.”

She sighed and slumped back in her seat. “Gibbs would have let you do it. We have to figure out a way to get the team back together.”

He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “It’ll be okay, Abbs. I promise.”

“Really?” She smiled reluctantly.

He squeezed her hand. “Definitely. And if nothing else, we’ve still got each other. Friends forever, right?”

Her smile widened and she turned her hand over to squeeze his. “Friends forever.”


End file.
